


Untitled (Shack #68)

by Dorinda



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Age of Sail, Canadian Shack, Challenge Response, First Time, M/M, Repression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-31
Updated: 2001-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:52:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorinda/pseuds/Dorinda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cast adrift on a distant shore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled (Shack #68)

Pellew woke to a dash of seawater in his face and found the leader of the mutineers bending over him.

"We're putting you off, Admiral," he said. "We took a vote on it. You was just a passenger. We agreed you had nothing to do with how Deacon treated us."

Pellew struggled to sit upright, lifting his chin. "_Captain_ Deacon."

"Not no more." The traitor grinned. "Put him ashore, lads."

They hoisted him up; he planted his feet and caught the man's eye as best he could in the stagnant darkness of the cable tier. "And my officer?"

A shrug. "You sure he won't want to come along with us?"

Pellew gritted his teeth and did not reply.

"Aye aye, sir." Mocking laughter followed him as he was dragged away.  


* * *

"Marooned, sir?" Hornblower's throat worked in a hard swallow. "Marooned?"

Pellew looked away from the shivering man beside him and stared hard at the ship as her sails passed beyond the horizon's curve, into the clouds and the looming dark. The alien shore beneath his feet felt leaden, heavy, and he found it intensely irritating. "Don't lose your nerve just yet, Mr. Hornblower." And then, abashed, he made himself turn back and meet Hornblower's eyes. "_Captain_ Hornblower," he said, hating the stiffness of his voice.

That smile, warm and somehow shy, the boy eternally visible beneath the face of the man. "Aye aye, sir."

No mockery in those words, not from him. Pellew heard the trust there and had to turn away again, clasping his hands tightly behind his back.  


* * *

They retreated from the shore into sparse woods, seeking shelter from the night and the cold, and against all hope they found it before the sun had fully set--not just shelter, but a sign of human habitation. The structure was small, crude, and stale with the lingering smell of dead fish, but it did not seem likely to fall down upon their heads in the night, and so they took possession.

An open fire in a hearth was strange, almost exotic, after so long at sea. The cabin afforded him as an important passenger, and an Admiral at that, had been spacious and comfortable, but of course there had been no fire. Nor had there been a young man curled before the blaze, his features washed with rippling amber light. A Captain now, famous in his own right, and still he was as he had always been. Brave. Clever. Kind. And because of that kindness, vulnerable.

So beautiful.

Pellew shifted away and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"Are you still cold, sir?" Hornblower half-rose from his nest and pulled the heavy greatcoat from beneath himself. "Here."

Damn him. Pellew held as still as he could, looking hard into the fire so that he would not have to see those eyes. "Captain," he said. "You need not minister to me. A Captain may be led by his Admirals, but in the end he is his own master."

Strong hands draped the greatcoat over his shoulders. "He is," said Hornblower, so close to his ear, so hushed and confident. "I am."

Pellew closed his eyes at the touch of a hand on the nape of his neck. And it seemed to be he who was not his own master, for he leaned into that hand, and that body, and that embrace, as if he were falling from the topmast into a dark and welcoming sea.

Deep into the night, he whispered the secret of his heart against the warmth of Horatio's throat, and was content.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally submitted to "101 Ways To End Up In A Canadian Shack," at <http://www.trickster.org/speranza/ShackedUp.html#68>, in December 2001.


End file.
